


springtime reverie

by khrysallis



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-06 00:42:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19051792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khrysallis/pseuds/khrysallis
Summary: Yifan wants to be pampered; Yixing is more than pleased to comply.





	springtime reverie

**Author's Note:**

> This fic contains **bottom!Yifan**. Please do close the tab if you do not read bottom!Yifan. 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I can't believe that my first completed fic in 3? 4? months is yet _another_ pwp. I am ashamed. I need to stop writing porn. Regardless, please enjoy!

  
  
  
  
  
  


The aromatic scent of _guihua_ permeates his senses the moment he is lead into the main suite, instantly calming his senses. He ambles to the centre of the room, and takes a seat at the table. Some pastries have already been laid out and covered by a lace cloth, but he takes no interest in them.

“Please, make yourself comfortable, m’lord,” the servant who showed him the way says, head dipped low and gaze transfixed upon the ground beneath his feet. It is rude to look at anyone of a higher caste in the eye—an act punishable by a slap across the cheek, if you were lucky enough. But if you weren’t— “Shall this humble slave retrieve your cloak for you, m'lord?" 

He raises his hand when the servant tries to approach him, effectively stopping the other man in his steps. There is hesitation in the servant's actions when his gaze flicks up to look at him momentarily, probably baffled, but the servant soon lowers his gaze again when he waves the servant off. 

"As you wish, m'lord. My master will be with you soon enough," the servant informs, and takes slow steps backwards until he shows himself out of the door.

Wu Yifan only breathes easy when the double doors close behind the servant, and removes his wide-brimmed hat and face veil once he's certain that the servant would not return. The tea— _da hong pao_ of the finest quality, he notes just by taking a quick whiff—has already been served, and there is no reason for the servant to linger if he isn't summoned. 

He shivers a little when the cooling Spring air envelopes him the moment he takes off his cloak, folding it neatly and placing it on the rosewood stool beside him. There is a hint of dampness in the air, the smell of wet grass wafting in through the open window, for it had rained not long ago. Yifan makes his way to the window and looks out of it, admiring the hustle and bustle of the streets beneath. The lanterns cast a reddish-yellow gleam on the walls, momentarily illuminating the faces of those that pass.

He is only glad that no one had recognised him on his way here.

It is but a short journey, travelling from Chang'an to Lantian, but it's still a risk nevertheless. Yifan is the son of a high-ranking official in the palace, and to be seen in these places—houses of assignation, with men offering their services to anyone who is willing to pay the price—will no doubt bring dishonour to the family. 

It's not as though relationships between men are shunned by others, no, but a highborn son of a government official should always keep himself in line, to marry a woman and to continue the family lineage as he is expected to. 

Yifan is honestly tired of conforming to expectations. 

"Good evening, Master Wu," a quiet voice speaks up just then, filling the chambers with a melodious lilt. "To whom do I owe the honour of having you here in my bedchamber?"

Yifan jumps at the voice and promptly stiffens as the mention of his family name. "How did you—"

The man who had just joined him in the room gestures politely in the direction of Yifan's waist. Yifan follows his line of sight, and realises that his jade ornament is hanging in plain sight, having been concealed by his cloak earlier. He immediately covers his accessory up with a hand, hopelessly hoping that it could somehow erase the man’s memory of it. 

"I may pretend so sometimes, but obtuse I am not. That jade emblem represents your family, does it not?" He follows up his words with a teasing smile, and Yifan promptly forgets how to breathe. 

The man is as stunning as the words say he is. His eyes are gleaming with a sort of quiet wisdom, slender frame apparent beneath his midnight blue robes. Another smile brightens up his features—this time sincere—and Yifan catches a sight of his dimpled cheek when he looks at Yifan again. 

Truly mesmerising. 

“Pardon my insolence, Master Wu. I seem to have forgotten my manners,” he dips his body into a respectful bow, and lowers his gaze just a little to come off as demure. “My name is Zhang Yixing, but I am sure you already know.”

“I—” Yifan blinks, forgetting what he had meant to say when Yixing draws up the hem of his sleeve to pour a cup of tea for Yifan, revealing a small slither of skin as he does so. He only returns to his senses when Yixing returns the teapot onto the clay stove with a soft clatter. “You may address me as Yifan. Forget about the formalities.”

“If you say so, _Yifan_ ,” Yixing tests out the name on his lips, and Yifan decides that he likes the way the syllables curl around Yixing’s tongue. “May I commend you for being the first customer who has not pinned me to the bed the moment you laid your eyes upon me?” 

Yifan blinks again at Yixing’s boldness, but the other man doesn’t seem perturbed by that fact. “What? Do… do others do that?”

Yixing laughs, and it’s a soothing sound. It is, however, a huge contrast to what he has to say next. “Unfortunately, there are more uncouth behaviour that happens within these walls, but who am I to say anything about it? I am but a servant whose duty is to offer my body for the taking.” 

He then looks at Yifan meaningfully. “I am certain you are here for that exact same reason, yes?” Yifan stiffens when Yixing strolls over and presses a hand to his clothed chest. He smells of the fragrance of plum blossoms. “Surely you are not here just for a conversation?” 

Yifan clears his throat and glances away, feeling his cheeks burn from the intensity of Yixing’s gaze. He really has a way to lure others into his grasp, and Yixing nearly has Yifan right where he wants Yifan to be. 

Not so easily, though. “I was seeking for something different… something which no other man would dare offer, because of my standing.” 

He’s certain he’s managed to gain Yixing’s undivided attention, when Yixing raises a perfectly trimmed brow in response. “And that would be—?” 

Standing close like this, it’s easy to see how he towers over Yixing, but it only makes things all the more exciting for Yifan. He leans forward to whisper in Yixing’s ear, as though they aren’t the only two people left in Yixing’s chambers. “I want you to fuck me, any way you want. Order me around. Make me beg, make me scream your name aloud. Can you do that, or will you be like every other man who has ever shied away from my request?” 

For the first time in the past quarter-of-an-incense's time, Yixing's calm, confident demeanour seems to have been ruffled by Yifan's bold request, and his eyes are wide as he looks up at Yifan for a silent confirmation. Yifan holds his ground, though, fighting to keep himself from blushing at his own words. They barely even know each other, and Yixing must think that Yifan is shameless to put forth such a demand. Nevertheless, there's something about Yixing that screams at Yifan to invest his trust in him, and he _wants_ to take that leap of faith. 

When Yixing realises Yifan isn't trying to pull his leg, he smiles again and puts a comfortable distance between them. "That is a rare request indeed, but it can be done if you so wish, Yifan." 

Yifan releases the breath he didn't even know he was holding at Yixing's affirmation, and he instantly relaxes. "Really?" He asks, to which Yixing nods. 

"Yes, Yifan. Now lie down on the bed, and _wait_ ," Yixing commands, and Yifan feels a shudder run down his spine at the sudden surge of authority in Yixing's words. He obediently walks towards the bed, hands beginning to work on the silk tie holding his robes together, but Yixing has other plans for him. "I did not instruct you to strip, Yifan. Keep your clothes on." 

Immediately Yifan drops his hands, and walks the rest of the way with his fists clenched by his side to keep himself from doing anything else. He hears Yixing coo a compliment behind him for his obedience, and he preens at the praise. Yixing doesn't waste his time in getting down to business, perhaps due to the fact that he is being paid for the time of two incense sticks, but he quickly puts out all but one candle nearest to the bed to provide the room with some illumination.

Their shadows dance against the wall under the pale orange light, Yixing's one ambling closer and closer to Yifan's as he joins Yifan on the bed. The unwavering smile is still playing on Yixing's lips as he caresses Yifan's cheek, brushing loose strands of hair out of Yifan's face with slim fingers that could only belong to a musician. The gesture is tender, almost as though Yixing is his lover, but Yifan quickly shakes himself out of those thoughts. 

Yixing is nothing but an escort paid to pleasure him, Yifan reminds himself, even if the thought leaves a bitter aftertaste on his tongue. 

"How far do you want me to go, Yifan?" He whispers again, fingers trailing down the side of Yifan's jaw before coming to rest on his chest. The way his digits are drawing idle circles against Yifan's clothed skin is making his head spin, and his throat feels so impossibly dry at the way Yixing is looking at him. 

"Anything—" he starts, gulps, swallows against the lump in his throat. "— _Everything_ you can offer."

Being the professional that he is, Yixing doesn't wait to be asked twice. He latches his lips—soft, supple, _hot_ —against the skin of Yifan's neck, kissing and sucking along his way. He teases Yifan mercilessly, mouth trailing dangerously close to Yifan's lips but never kissing him fully on it, and Yifan _gets_ it. There is a certain attachment that comes with exchanging kisses on lips, and Yixing is probably doing his best not to get involved with his customers. 

It doesn't mean that Yifan can't ache with the desire to do so, and he tilts his head just a little when Yixing's lips travel close to his mouth once again. The first brush of lips is intoxicating, and Yifan soon finds himself chasing after Yixing mouth, eager to have another taste of him. Surprisingly, Yixing indulges him and exchanges more open-mouthed kisses with Yifan, tongue licking into the warm insides of Yifan's cheeks. 

Several more moments pass them by before Yixing finally catches himself and pulls away—much to Yifan's disappointment. 

"This will not do, Yifan," Yixing chastises quietly, and it's mesmerising, how flushed he is from such little exertion. But what surprises Yifan more, though, is the way Yixing reaches behind him and _tugs_ at Yifan's hair—somehow it had tumbled out of the bun which was holding it in place—baring his neck for the taking. "I need you to be obedient, and that means not doing anything out of line." 

Yifan swallows again. The authority in Yixing's voice doing _things_ to him. "As you wish, _master_." 

It seems that Yifan isn't the only one who is affected by whatever is transpiring between them, because Yixing lets out a low growl and latches his teeth to Yifan's collarbone, onto that patch of skin just below the dip of his collar, and _bites_. Yifan snarls in response, but the satisfied look on Yixing's face when he glances up at Yifan silences him at once. His action is definitely going to leave a mark, and Yifan thinks that's what Yixing is aiming for. 

The fingers of Yixing's left hand are still tangled in Yifan's hair, while his other deftly tugs at the silk tie holding Yifan's robes together. The fabric slides off Yifan's shoulders easily enough, and Yixing makes quick work of his undershirt and pants as well. Yifan soon finds himself incredibly exposed on Yixing's bed, robes hanging halfway off his shoulders—with Yixing tugging at his hair like this, it's impossible for him to do anything but to support his weight with outstretched arms, letting Yixing work his way down Yifan's torso in small nibbles and fleeting kisses. 

"Impressive," Yixing hums when he finally reaches Yifan's waist, having released his hold on Yifan's long hair to be at eye level with Yifan's cock. It's already curling towards Yifan's stomach, precum leaking from its tip, and Yixing licks his lips eagerly. 

Yifan is pleased. 

"Remove your clothes," Yixing instructs again, and Yifan wastes no time in discarding his clothes onto the floor, leaving himself stark naked and eager to be fucked on Yixing's bed. Yixing rewards his subservience with a quick press of lips to his mouth, and makes to get up from the bed. 

For a moment, Yifan wonders if Yixing is going to abandon him like this, but he soon learns that he has nothing to worry about. Zhang Yixing's actions are enticing as he makes a show of undoing his midnight blue robes, layer by layer, as he ambles towards the ornate armoire located close to the bed. Yifan finds himself getting more aroused at the first peek of Yixing's skin, when he removes his undershirt to reveal the toned muscles of his back, shoulders broad and firm. 

Yixing's clothed appearance definitely betrays what lies beneath it, and Yifan is pleasantly surprised indeed. 

He gets even more worked up when Yixing returns to the bed with a small pot of scented oil in hand. Yixing is as bare as Yifan is now, and it turns out that his cock is of a good size too. He hums in appreciation, and it earns him a proud smile from Yixing. Yixing _knows_ just how attractive he is.

As if he hasn’t teased Yifan enough already, Yixing deliberately brushes his half-hard cock against Yifan’s leg as he climbs back onto the bed to join him, smearing precum across his skin. His hands follow after him, coming to rest at the top of Yifan’s thighs. 

Yifan subconsciously spreads his legs wider to accommodate Yixing, cock throbbing with want. Their bodies are so, so close right now that Yifan wants them to be pressed flushed together, but Yixing clearly has other ideas for now. 

“You shall not be impatient, Yifan. I have not even started working you up properly yet,” Yixing tells him, and there’s a twinkle in his eyes that promises Yifan the world. “Now will you be an obedient one for me?”

Yifan’s responding ‘yes’ probably came out a little too breathless, a little too eager, but he’s in no capacity to feel embarrassed, not when he’s already laid bare for Yixing to take. Yifan knows what the others would say if they ever saw him begging like this, so eager to please rather than to be pleased; he has the innate desire to be this way, though, and he is excited by the mere prospect of someone else indulging him in his desires. 

Yixing is the one for him right now, not an ounce of judgmental thoughts escaping from the man at Yifan’s unconventional request.

“Good,” Yixing coos again, before lowering himself down to Yifan’s groin again and pushing his thighs apart even more. 

Yifan is only too eager to comply, keeping his hands to himself and knees wide on his own accord. Yixing’s proud smile is apparent even in the dim candlelight dancing in the dark, and Yifan swears he’s going to end up losing his mind before the night is even over when Yixing wraps his hot lips around Yifan’s cock and takes him into his mouth. 

It soon becomes clear that Yixing is adept at this, knows what exactly will push Yifan closer and closer to the edge with minimal effort, even though this is the first time they’re sleeping together. Yixing’s tongue is a wonder on its own, pressing flat against the underside of Yifan’s cock before he drags it all the way to the tip, swirling it under the crown before he gently laps up the precum leaking from it. His hand fondles Yifan’s balls as he takes in Yifan’s length again, squeezing rhythmically to the pace he’s setting as he continues to suck Yifan off. 

“ _Fuck_ , Yixing!” Yifan curses aloud when he feels the first wave of his orgasm coming along, though it seems that Yixing has other plans for him. 

He pulls away just before Yifan comes, throwing Yifan into the throes of confusion at the sudden loss of heat around his erect cock. When he catches Yifan’s bewildered gaze, he smiles that mysterious smile of his again—except that it’s more erotic this time, when he darts his tongue out to lick at the traces of Yifan’s precum left on his lips. “Patience,” he reiterates, then taps at Yifan’s thigh. “I want you to be on all fours. Can you do that for me?” 

The mere thought of having his ass up in the air for Yixing to devour has Yifan blushing in embarrassment again, but he’s also excited at the prospect of making Yixing proud. Once he’s certain his limbs won’t give way, he gingerly changes his position into the one Yixing had instructed him to assume. 

“You are so good for me,” Yixing praises, and Yifan preens again when he gently pulls Yifan's hair aside and starts pressing rewarding kisses to Yifan’s shoulder blades, all while leaving more marks in its wake. “Now I need you to relax, Yifan. This will be uncomfortable.” 

Yifan nods and braces himself as Yixing begins circling his finger around the rim of Yifan’s ass, shuddering at the coolness of the scented oil coating Yixing’s digits. The first intrusion has Yifan’s knees buckling—it’s been so, _so_ long since anyone else but himself has done this, and it feels so fucking _good_ —and he slumps forward onto the bed, weight supported only by wobbly elbows and knees. His cheeks burn again when he realises just how inviting his ass might look like this, all for Yixing’s taking.

His father is definitely going to disown him, if he ever found out what Yifan has been up to.

“That is the way; relax,” Yixing continues to encourage him with feather-light kisses on the base of his spine, finger moving in a slow pace as he allows Yifan some time to get used to the intrusion. “Relax, I will be gentle with you.”

And he trusts Yixing. He really does. 

Yifan rocks back against Yixing’s finger once he thinks he can accommodate the stretch, and Yixing caresses the swell of his bottom, murmuring more words of encouragement as his finger picks up the pace, and one finger quickly becomes two when Yifan begs for it. Soon enough, Yifan is already a whining mess, desperately trying to fuck himself down on Yixing’s fingers, trying to chase the euphoria that comes with it. 

“You are very good indeed, Yifan,” Yixing tells him, planting another kiss on the base of Yifan’s spine before he removes his fingers.

Yifan is about to protest at the loss, but he soon gulps in anticipation when he throws a look behind his shoulder and sees Yixing slathering a generous amount of scented oil on his own cock, pumping it several times to get it to full hardness. He groans into the covers when Yixing teases his hole with the tip of his cock, thighs trembling from anticipation. 

“What do you want me to do, Yifan?” Yixing asks again, as though it isn’t already obvious enough. His words sound innocent enough, but his actions—he is now fucking himself slowly using the gap between Yifan’s thighs, cock brushing against Yifan’s throbbing one—is absolutely anything _but_ that.

Perhaps Yixing is aroused by the idea of having someone begging him. If so, then Yixing’s personality is a lot more dominant than he lets on, more than anyone else allows him to act within these walls. Yifan moans at the thought. He _wants_ Yixing to command him, to praise him like no one else has done before.

“Fuck me, Yixing. _Please_ ,” Yifan says, hands reaching behind to spread his cheeks apart. He is so, so close to getting Yixing’s perfect cock in him, and he might die from anticipation if Yixing doesn’t give him what he wants soon. “Fuck me hard, until I am sobbing for you.” 

Thankfully, Yixing doesn’t have the patience to tease him any longer. His grip on Yifan’s hips is almost on the verge of bruising as he eases his erect cock into Yifan, and Yifan moans aloud at the stretch, because it feels so fucking good to finally have Yixing in him. 

As usual, Yixing stays still for a brief moment, caressing Yifan’s hand as he allows Yifan to get used to him. His cock is a lot thicker than Yifan had initially thought, but the stretch is not enough to hurt him.

And he relays that precise thought to Yixing. “Please, move, Yixing. You are not hurting me. I desperately _need_ you to move,” he sobs, his cock between his legs throbbing to the point of being painful from the want. 

Yixing actually _laughs_ at him, but it’s a fond sound. “How impatient,” he teases, though there’s no heat to his words as he starts thrusting his hips forward, driving his cock deeper into Yifan. 

Another loud moan is pulled out of Yifan at that, and he thinks he can see the stars forming at the back of his eyelids when they slide shut on their own accord. Yixing is relentless, his hold on Yifan firm as he pulls himself almost all the way out before slamming right back into Yifan. His pace picks up gradually until all that fills the spaces in between them is the sound of Yifan’s incessant moaning of Yixing’s name and other incoherent words, as well as the noise of skin slapping against skin. 

Just as Yifan’s orgasm is fast approaching for the second time that evening, Yixing pulls away _again_ , and Yifan almost wants to die from being continuously denied his release. “Yixing, what—”

“Turn around and lie on your back,” he tells Yifan, and Yifan finds himself obeying without further question, almost as though it’s second nature for him. It’s odd, how Yixing has so great an effect on him even though they have just met, and it speaks volume of the amount of trust Yifan has already invested in him. "I want to watch you as you climax," Yixing explains, even though he doesn't have the obligation to do so. 

Something funny stirs within Yifan; he doesn't think he's quite ready to delve further into it. Not any time soon. 

It's a lot more comfortable like this, when the strain has been taken off his back, and Yifan's mouth falls wide open when Yixing eases himself back inside Yifan, his knees folded in half to deepen the angle at which Yixing is able to fuck him. The funny feeling is further amplified when Yixing smiles down at him and laces his fingers with Yifan's on either side of him, his silky black hair falling over his shoulders. Yifan wants to comb his fingers through them, but forces himself to be satisfied with watching Yixing's look of concentration as he resumes his previous pace of fucking into Yifan. Beads of sweat are rolling down the sides of Yixing's face, and his abdominal muscles are contracting and relaxing with each movement of his. Not for the first time that evening, Yifan thinks Yixing is fascinating, _mesmerising_ in his own special way. 

"Touch yourself," Yixing commands through gritted teeth just then, and Yifan scrambles to obey, regretfully relinquishing his hold on Yixing's left hand to fist his own cock in tandem with the rhythm Yixing has set. 

This time, Yixing doesn't pull away even when Yifan tells him he's going to come. Instead, he coaxes Yifan into reaching his orgasm with filthy words of encouragement whispered in his ear, maintaining the angle at which he's hitting Yifan's prostate, each slide smooth and slick. 

Relief washes over him when Yifan finally comes in spurts of white splattering across his torso, his body pulling taut for a moment as he rides out his orgasm before he goes limp on the bed. Yixing follows him soon after, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut in utter bliss as he coats the insides of Yifan's walls with hot cum. He collapses on top of Yifan once he pulls himself out, arms wrapping around Yifan's waist as he languidly laps up the traces of Yifan's cum collected on his abdomen, breaths warm against his sweaty skin. 

They lie together like this for a while longer, merely enjoying each other's silent companionship, before Yixing finally gets off the bed with a small stretch, leaving Yifan disappointed at the loss of Yixing's bodily warmth as he watches Yixing head to the back of the room.

"Do not look so dejected, Yifan," Yixing laughs at Yifan's expression when he returns with a basin of warm water and a towel. His actions are gentle as he wipes the drying cum off of Yifan's body, gaze tender. His touch lingers on Yifan's thigh for a brief moment, before he gathers his thoughts once again and puts away the basin of soiled water on the bedside table. 

One look at the incense burning away by the window has Yifan returning abruptly to reality, reminding himself that he is essentially paying for Yixing's time—and it is about to run out. He doesn't know if he's imagining it, but Yifan thought Yixing was wearing a bittersweet smile at one point. The look is gone as quickly as it had appeared, though. Yifan doesn't have the courage to ask Yixing if he is feeling as reluctant for this—whatever _this_ is—to end. 

Instead, he pliantly peels himself away from the covers when Yixing offers Yifan his hand, shivering a little at the cooling night air before he allows Yixing to put his clothes back on for him. It feels rather domestic like this, when Yixing is tying up Yifan's robes with utmost patience, and the radiant smile he flashes at Yifan when he's done almost knocks Yifan's breath away. 

"I hope you have enjoyed the evening, Master Wu," Yixing says, voice small when he tucks his hands back into his lap, and the fantasy is shattered. The initial shyness he had displayed is back in place, as if remembering that he is essentially a servant, and Yifan is a highborn son. "Do forgive me if I have been rough—" 

"You can address me as Yifan, anytime you want," Yifan interrupts him with a small smile, feeling unsure of himself as well. He wonders if he's coming off as too assuming, but hopes that Yixing doesn't find him overbearing. "Will you have me within these walls again?" 

Yixing appears confused for a brief moment, before his bright, dimpled smile promptly makes a return. "If you are not reluctant, _yes_." 

And Yifan is definitely, definitely smitten.

**Author's Note:**

> (P/S: The initial working title for this fic was 春梦, which, by the way, is the Chinese word for 'wet dream'. I felt like an uncultured swine for wanting to use it, hence the current title. I am going to go hide myself in a corner now.)


End file.
